belle 🐰

cherish (my love)

pairing: juhoon x fem ! reader genre: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, college AU, slice of life, comfort warnings: none ! wc: ~1,150-1,250 words synopsis: sometimes love doesn't arrive with fireworks. sometimes it just sneaks into your everyday life. BASED ON CHERISH (MY LOVE) BY ILLIT !

static on the stereo

pairing: guitarist ! martin x singer ! reader genre: 2000s garage band au, slow burn, bandmates to lovers, fluff, angst, tension wc: 3.2k-3.5k words synopsis: in 2006, your band is six kids with cheap guitars, bruised knuckles, and impossible dreams. ¡¡NOT PROOFREAD!!

the basement reeked of dust, sweat, and burnt out extension cords, it always did.

the old yellow lamp in the corner flickered like it was on its last breath, throwing shaky light across the concrete floor while cables curled around everywhere like sleeping snakes.

this was home, not literally, but close enough.

"again," james said, tapping his drumsticks together.

juhoon groaned from behind his bass. "we've played this song eight times already."

"nine," keonho corrected, adjusting his keyboard.

seonghyeon sat cross-legged on the floor with his guitar, scribbling notes into a ripped notebook.

and then there was martin, leaning against the amp, he was quiet, and silently watching, he was always watching.

you stood at the mic, fingers curled around it like you could squeeze the nerves out of yourself.

"from the bridge," you said.

james counted in.

one, two, three, four.

the room exploded.

guitar feedback screamed through the speakers, juhoon's bass rumbled under it like thunder, james crashed into the drums like he was trying to break them, and your voice cut through the noise.

raw, messy, real.

martin's guitar slid into the chorus like liquid silver.

he played like breathing, like it cost him nothing, you hated that, love it too.

when the song ended, james threw his sticks in the air. "that was disgusting."

you frowned. "like, bad disgusting?"

he grinned. "no, good disgusting."

martin smirked. it was tiny, barely there, but enough.

you caught it, and your stomach betrayed you, again.

"you rushed the second verse," martin said.

your eyes narrowed.

"there it is."

"there what is?"

"you being so annoying."

he crossed his arms. "you asked."

"i didn't ask for nothing."

"you looked at me."

"that doesn't count."

"it does."

juhoon laughed. "you two flirt like divorced parents."

"we are not flirting," you and martin said at the exact same time.

james nearly fell of his stool laughing. martin looked away first, that should've felt like victory, instead it just felt… weird. like heat crawling up your neck.

the band was called velvet riot, a name james came up with at 2 am while eating instant ramen.

nobody, and i mean nobody liked it, but nobody had better so it stayed.

by fall of 2006, you were playing local shows around seoul, tiny underground venues with sticky floors and crowds packed shoulder to shoulder.

it wasn't beautiful, half the time the sound system sucked, sometimes people threw napkins, once someone had thrown soup, but people listened, and that's what mattered.

tonight's venue was cramped and boiling hot, you adjusted your eyeliner in the cracked mirror backstage.

"you nervous?" seonghyeon asked.

"always."

"that's good."

"how?"

"if you stop being nervous, it means you stopped caring."

you hummed.

martin walked in, guitar slung over his shoulder. he was wearing black skinny jeans, band tee, messy blond hair falling into his eyes, he looked annoying cool without trying.

"five minutes," he said.

your eyes met in the mirror, static, always static.

"you ready?" he asked.

you swallowed. "yeah."

he stared for a second longer, then, "your eyeliner's smudged."

you glared. "then don't look at me."

he stepped closer, your breathing stopped, his thumb brushed the corner of your eye, wiping the smudge, quick, simple, but your heart slammed like james' kick drum.

"there," martin said softly, and walked out.

you stood frozen.

seonghyeon stared.

"…what?"

"i hate him."

"sure you do."

the show was chaos, perfect chaos.

the crowd screamed lyrics back at you, sweat dripped down your neck, lights burned hot.

martin stood to your right, guitar low against his hips, eyes half-lidded in concentration.

during your final chorus of your newest song, he looked at you. like really looked at you.

and for one dangerous second, everything else disappeared.

not the crowd, not the lights, just him, and that look, like he was hearing you for the first time.

after the set, the venue owner shoved forty bucks into james' hand.

"big money," juhoon said.

"we're so rich," keonho deadpanned.

you laughed, stepping outside into the cool night air, the city buzzed around you, cars, streetlights, rain thretening.

martin joined you.

"you were good tonight."

that caught you off guard, because martin didn't hand out compliments like candy.

"…thanks."

he nodded.

silence stretched, not awkward, just full.

"why'd you start singing?" he asked.

you looked up at the neon signs.

"because it was the only thing that really made sense."

martin watched you.

"yeah."

"what about you?"

"same."

something about that answer made your chest ache, because you understood it way too much.

and maybe that was the dangerous part.

not that martin was attractive, not that he made your stomach flip, but that he understood you, like he could hear the parts of your body nobody else could, and that was worse, way worse.

rain started falling, soft at first, then harder.

you both laughed and ran back toward the van, soaked within seconds.

martin grabbed your wrist when you slipped on the pavement, his hand stayed there, warm, firm.

your face inches apart, rain dripping from his hair, his eyes on your mouth, your pulse a riot, for one second, two, three, then james leaned out the van window.

"GET A ROOM."

you yanked away, martin climbed in like nothing happened.

you sat beside him, heart rattling like loose change in a dryer.

and the worst part? he looked completely calm, like he hadn't almost kissed you, like you hadn't wanted him to.

badly. outside, rain battered the windows. inside, velvet riot drove into the dark with cheap gear and bigger dreams.

and beside you, martin tapped a rhythm against his knee.

the van smelled like old fries, wet denim, and someone's broken optimism.

james was driving like the road owed him tons of money. juhoon was arguing with keonho about whether distorted bass "counts as music or a plea for help," and seonghyeon had fallen asleep with his guitar still strapped across his chest like a loyal pet refusing to leave its owner.

you sat pressed against the window, martin sat beside you, too close for comfort, not close enough to be anything else.

the rain had stopped, but the world still looked smeared, like someone had dragged a thumb across it.

martin's knee slightly bounced, tapping patterns on the floorboard. you noticed it again, you always noticed it.

"you keep doing that," you said quietly.

"doing what?"

"that." you pointed toward his leg.

he glanced down. "oh, i didn't notice."

"yeah, well i did."

then, softer, "it helps me think."

you hummed like you didn't care, but you really did. because you were learning him i fragments, not stories, not sentences, just… patterns.

james swerved slightly and shouted, "WE'RE GETTING FOOD OR I DIE."

"you're already dead inside," juhoon said.

"i will crash this van," james said, looking at juhoon from the rearview mirror.

somehow, you all ended up at a 24-hour diner glowing like a tired spaceship on the side of the highway.

red booths, sticky menus, coffee that tasted like burnt hope and regret.

you slid into a seat across from martin, he didn't look up from peeling the label off the glass.

"so," james said, grinning. "we just played our best show yet."

"we played in a room that smelled like mildew," juhoon corrected.

"and we were awesome," james insisted.

"you threw a drumstick at a drunk guy," keonho added.

"he deserved it."

martin finally spoke. "we need a better setlist."

the table groaned in unison.

"of course you say that," you said.

he looked at you. "it's true."

"that's not my fault."

"it's annoying."

"it's efficient."

"you're efficient," james echoed mockingly. "like a human spreadsheet."

martin didn't react, he just looked at you again, like he was waiting for something, like he always was, and you hated how much you wanted to give it to him.

later, the others went outside arguing about snacks and the best restaurants to dine in at.

you stayed behind, so did martin, of course he did.

the diner hummed softly around you, old radio in the corner playing something broken and soft.

you traced your finger along the condensation on your glass.

"you wrote something new," martin said suddenly.

your eyes flickered up.

"what?"

"during soundcheck. you were humming."

you froze. "you were listening?"

"i'm always listening."

that should've been normal, but the way he said it made your chest tighten.

"…it's not finished," you admitted.

"sing it."

"no."

"why?"

"because it's not good yet."

martin leaned back in his seat. "that's not a reason."

"it is for me."

silence stretched.

then he said, "play it anyway."

you frowned. "no."

he didn't push, that was worse. instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small, battered cassette player.

your eyebrows shot up.

"where did you get that relic?"

"thrift store."

"you're actually a 40 year old man stuck inside a teenager's body."

he ignored that, and pressed play.

a low, crackling instrumental filled the booth. guitar, simple, bare bones.

your breath caught.

"that's yours," you said.

"yeah."

"when did you?"

"last week."

you stared at him, he didn't look embarrassed, he just looked… steady, like this was normal, like making music for you was just another wednesday.

"you didn't tell me," you said.

"you would've overthought it."

"that's not--"

"it is."

you hated that he was right, the instrumental looped again, soft, patient, like it was waiting for you voice.

martin slid a napkin toward you. "try it."

but your hands were already moving, words came out messy at first, then steadier, like your voice recognized before your mind did.

a song about static signals, about trying to reach someone through noise, about missing something you couldn't name.

when you finished, your throat felt tight, the booth was quiet, too quiet.

martin stared at the table for a long second. then, "yeah."

that was it, just that, but something in his tone cracked open something in you, not dramatic, not loud, just real.

outside, the others were arguing about fried.

while inside, the air between you and martin felt different. not heavier, not lighter, just… charged, like a wire pulled too tight.

you stood first.

"i'm going back to the van."

martin nodded, you turned and then--

"hey."

you paused, didn't look back just yet.

"your song," he said.

"…yeah?"

"it sounds like you're trying not to fall apart."

you swallowed. "that's not what it is."

a beat, then his voice, quieter, "maybe not."

you finally looked at him, he was watching you, like always, but softer now and less distance, more something you couldn't name.

"i'll fix it," you said, even though you didn't know what "fix" meant.

martin stood as well.

"no," he said.

"don't."

that confused you.

"what?"

"don't fix it."

a paused, then he added, "it's already good."

that hit much more harder than it should've, because martin didn't lie, not even a little.

when you got back to the van, james immediately yelled, "YOU GUYS WERE GONE FOR SO LONG."

"suspicious," juhoon said.

you climbed into the van without answering, martin followed, and sat beside you again in the same seat, same silence, but now it felt different, like something had shifted and nobody had named it yet.

outside, the diner shrank in the rearview mirror.

inside, james turned up the radio, a stretched out rock song played through static.

and martin tapped the rhythm again on his knee. but this time, you matched it, just slightly, just barely, and he noticed.

his fingers paused for half a second, then resumed.

by winter, velvet riot had become something people actually talked about, not famous, not even close, but known.

the kind of known where underground forums started posting blurry photos of your sets. the kind where kids in oversized hoodies showed up early just to get near the stage. the kind where people knew the lyrics before you officially released them.

it just felt unreal.

like building a paper airplane and watching it somehow survive a storm.

tonight, you were playing one of the biggest venues you'd had yet, still small, still grimmy, but bigger than bars and basements.

backstage was absolute chaos.

james was spinning a drumstick between his fingers, juhoon was tuning for the sixth time, keonho was muttering about winning, seonghyeon was pascing, and martin…

martin was sitting on the floor, guitar in his lap, head down, and quiet.

you leaned against the wall, watching him, he had this way of disappearing into himself before shows, like he had to lock every piece into place.

"you're staring," he said without looking up.

you rolled you eyes. "how do you always know?"

he looked up, a little amused.

"because you're loud."

"i'm literally just standing here."

"exactly."

you kicked his shoe lightly.

he smirked, and that stupid smirk did the usual damage.

by now, your feelings for martin were less of a secret to yourself, still hidden from everyone else, mostly. except for james, he definitely knew, james knew everything, he was like a raccoon with gossip, what a menace.

the set was electric, the crowd screamed so loud your ears rang between songs, sweat clung to your skin, lights flashed, your throat burned.

and martin was impossible tonight, every riff sharper, every glance heavier.

halfway through your new song, your eyes locked across the stage.

the song bent around it, that look, again, the same dangerous gravity, you almost missed your cue.

after the set, james was riding adrenaline like it was a stolen bike.

"THAT was insane!"

juhoon laughed. "you almost knocked over your kit."

"rock and roll."

keonho deadpanned, "you say that every time you nearly die."

the venue owner approached, older guy, leather jacket, cigarette in his mouth.

"you kids got something."

james instantly puffed up.

"yeah?"

"there's a battle of the bands next month. winners get time in the studio."

everyone froze, studio time, actual studio time.

not martin recording demos in his bedroom with cheap equipment. real studio time.

james nearly combusted.

"we're in."

then man laughed. "good."

when he left, chaos erupted. juhoon tackled james, keonho actually smiled, seonghyeon looked like he might cry, and you?

you looked at martin, because of course you did, he was staring right back, not smiling, just… intense.

like this mattered to him more than words could carry.

the celebration ednded up on the roof of the venue. cheap soda, cold air, city lights stretched below like spilled glitter.

james and juhoon were play wrestling near the stairs, keonho and seonghyeon were quietly talking, you stood against the edge, arms folded against the cold.

martin joined you. no wrods at first, that was your thing, silence without weight.

"you happy?" he asked.

you smiled. "yeah."

he nodded.

his shoulder brushed yours, small, accidental, probably, it still made your pulse trip.

"studio time," you said. "feels fake."

"it's not."

"what if we lose?"

martin looked at you. "then we lose."

"that's comforting."

"it's honest."

you laughed.

"there's the martin charm."

his mouth twitched, then his voice dropped, "you care too much about outcomes."

you frowned.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"it means your always twenty steps ahead. you never stay in the moment."

that annoyed you, because it was true.

"and you do?"

"yes."

"liar."

martin tilted his head.

"am i?"

you looked at him, really looked, messy hair, cold pink cheeks, eye darker under the city lights, so close.

"i don't know," you said.

his gaze dropped to your mouth, there it was, again.

that unbearable most. then, "yo!"

james' voice shattered it, you both jumped apart, james stood in the doorway grinning like a criminal.

"band picture."

you glared so hard he almost laughed himself down the stairs.

later that night, back at martin's place, everyone crashed there because it was closer.

his house was empty, parents gone for work, like usual.

the living room was covered in sleeping bags and half eaten snacks.

james was already snoring, juhoon had stolen all the blankets, keonho had headphones on, seonghyeon was asleep mid sentence.

you couldn't sleep, so you wandered.

the hallway light glowed dim, martin's bedroom door was open, he was inside, sitting by the window with his guitar playing softly, you leaned against the frame.

"thought you lived the moment."

he glanced up. "i do."

"seems like you're hiding."

he huffed a laugh. "could say the same."

you stepped inside, his room was complete chaos, posters, CDS, lyrics pinned to the walls, half finished songs everywhere.

it felt like walking inside his brain, messy, brilliant, dangerous.

"what are you playing?" you asked.

"nothing."

"that's a song title?"

"no. just nothing."

you sat beside him on the bed, closer than usual.

the mattress dipped, his shoulder touched yours, neither of you moved, your eyes landed on a notebook beside him, he snatched it before you could grab it.

"oh my god," you said. "what's in there?"

"nothing."

"again with nothing."

"drop it."

that only made you want it more.

you lunged, he pulled away, you grabbed his wrist, he grabbed yours, suddenly you were both froze, way too close.

his hand warm against your, your knees touching, your faces inches apart, the room felt too small, the air too thin.

martin's eyes searched yours, not joking anymore, not teasing, something sharper.

your heartbeat slammed against your ribs.

"martin…"

his gaze dropped.

mouth, neck, back to your eyes, his voice was barely there.

"you keep doing that."

"doing what?"

"getting too close."

you swallowed.

"maybe you should stop me."

that was reckless, a match tossed into gasoline.

martin stared at your for one endless moment, then another, and then he kissed you.

quick, almost changed his mind, but it wasn't enough, you kissed back immediately. harder.

months of static finally breaking, his hand slid to your waist, yours tangled in his shirt.

it felt messy, breathless, like a song crashing into its chorus.

when you pulled apart, both of you were breathing hard.

martin rested his forehead against yours, neither of you spoke.

because what could you say?

that everything changed?

that it had been changing for months?

that maybe this was inevitable?

from the living room, james' half asleep voice rang out, "…called it."

you both laughed, quiet, disbelieving.

THE WORST PART

pairings: james x fem ! lifeguard ! reader genre: hurt/comfort, comfort, slice of life warnings: workplace dismissal of concerns, emotional distress, unwanted physical contact. wc: 1,850 words synopsis: after a terrible shift at the pool leaves you feeling ignored and uncomfortable, james notices immediately that something is wrong.

the first thing you saw when you woke up was sunlight.

the second thing was james.

your boyfriend sprawled across the bed beside you, one arm tucked beneath his pillow, blond hair sticking up in every direction imaginable, and shirtless.

you smiled despite yourself.

his chest rose and fell steadily as he slept, completely unaware that you were staring.

you reached out and poked his shoulder.

nothing.

another poke.

still nothing.

a third and final poke.

james groaned dramatically and buried his face deeper into the pillow.

"no."

you laughed.

"you don't even know what i was about to ask."

"i know enough."

his voice came out muffled.

"too early."

"it is not too early."

"it is."

you reached over for you phone on your nightstand.

"james, it's nine."

"exactly."

you rolled your eyes.

"most people are fully awake."

"i'm not most people."

his arm blindly searched for you until he found your waist and tugged you against him.

"there."

"james."

"five more minutes, please."

"you said that twenty minutes ago."

"then i clearly need another five."

you couldn't help giggling.

for a few minutes you let yourself stay there.

stay, warm, comfortable.

the complete opposite of how you'd feel later.

by noon, the pool was packed.

children were screaming, parents talking.

someone had already asked you where the bathroom was despite standing directly beneath the giant bathroom sign.

twice.

you were trying to focus on your shift when you noticed him. an older golfer standing near the fence separating the pool area from the golf course.

at first you didn't think much of it.

people wandered over all the time.

but then he stayed. and stayed. and stayed.

every time you looked over, he was watching.

your stomach twisted.

maybe you were imagining things, maybe you were overthinking.

you tried to focus on work.

a whistle blew, kids splashed.

another lifeguard asked you a question. you answered automatically.

then suddenly he was closer.

way closer.

the conversation started normally enough.

a question, then another, then another.

the kind that seemed innocent on paper but somehow made your skin crawl.

you kept stepping back, he kept stepping forward.

every instinct in your body screamed that something wasn't right.

your shoulders felt tight, your chest felt tight, you wanted to leave, you wanted the conversation to end, you wanted him to go away.

because sometimes girls are taught to prioritize being polite over being comfortable.

eventually he wandered off.

you released a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

only for him to eventually come back later.

and somehow it felt even worse.

you left that interaction feeling cross.

not because of anything you did, not because you were rude, not because you misunderstood something.

you felt gross because somebody ignored every signal that you were uncomfortable, and somehow that always left a stain.

by the time you shift had ended, you were exhausted.

emotionally, mentally, physically.

you headed straight towards for your manager's office.

you told him exactly what happened.

you explained why it made you feel uncomfortable, you explained how close the man progressively kept getting, how weird the interaction felt, how you didn't want it happening again.

you manager listened.

nodded.

then shrugged.

"oh, him?"

your stomach dropped.

"yeah."

"he's harmless."

harmless. the word hit you like a truck. harmless.

as if that changed how you felt, as if being uncomfortable suddenly wasn't valid anymore, as if your instincts didn't matter, as if the entire problem was simply solved because someone else decided it wasn't that big of a deal.

you left feeling much worse than before.

the drive home felt endless.

by the time you walked through the front door, all you wanted was your bed, or maybe to cry, you weren't sure.

the apartment was quiet.

james was sitting on the couch with his laptop balanced on his knees.

the second he looked up, his expression changed. immediately.

because of course it did. he knew you too well.

"hey."

you tried to smile, it didn't work.

his laptop clicked shut.

"what happened?"

the question was so gentle it nearly broke you.

"nothing."

james raised an eyebrow.

"that's definitely a lie."

you looked away. a few seconds passed, then a few more.

finally he stood, and wrapped his arms around you.

no questions, no pressure, just warmth. that was all it took, the tears came instantly.

"hey."

james guided you toward the couch.

"come here."

you sat beside him.

the second you leaned against his shoulder, he pulled you closer.

"what happened?"

this time you told him, everything.

the golfer, the uncomfortable feeling, the way he kept getting too close, the way your stomach had been in knots all day, the way your manager simply dismissed it.

you expected james to interrupt.

to explain, to play devil's advocate, to say maybe the guy didn't mean anything by it, instead he listened. the entire time.

when you finished, his jaw was tight, very tight.

the kind of tight that meant he was angry, not at you, for you.

"that wasn't okay."

you blinked.

"what?"

"you were uncomfortable."

you looked down.

"my boss said he was harmless."

"i don't care."

the response was immediate, firm, certain.

"i genuinely do not care."

your eyes stung again, james continued.

"if someone makes you uncomfortable, you're allowed to be uncomfortable."

"but what if--"

"no."

he shook his head.

"no what-ifs."

you fell silent. james turned toward you.

"listen to me."

his voice softened.

"you don't need permission to feel uncomfortable."

a tear slipped down your cheek, he brushed it away.

"you don't have need someone else to agree."

another tear.

"you don't need evidence."

another.

"you don't need to prove it."

your lip trembled. james gently tilted your chin up.

"the worst part isn't even that guy."

you frowned.

"what do you mean?"

"the worst part is that you went to someone you trusted for help and they made you feel guilty for speaking up."

that his harder than anything. because it was true.

not just because of the interaction.

because you'd finally worked up the courage to say something and immediately felt dismissed.

james pulled you into his chest.

his hand rubbed slow circles across your back.

"you know what i would've preferred?"

"what?"

"that they took you seriously."

his voice was quiet.

"even if they thought the guy meant no harm."

you listened.

"they could've said, 'i'm sorry that happened.' "

you nodded.

" 'thank you for telling me.' "

another nod.

" 'we'll keep an eye on it.' "

you buried your face in his shirt, because yes, exactly.

that would've been enough, just someone acknowledging how you felt.

hours later, you were curled up beside him beneath a fuzzy blanket.

a movie played in the background.

neither of you were watching it.

james was absentmindedly playing with your hair, his fingers moved carefully through the strands.

slow, comforting, steady.

"i feel stupid."

his hand immediately stopped.

you looked up, james genuinely looked offended.

"absolutely not."

"but--"

"no."

he pointed at you.

"not allowed."

a laugh escaped despite yourself.

"i'm serious."

"so am i."

he scooted closer.

"if my future daughter came home one day and told me exactly what you told me today, do you think i'd tell her she was stupid?"

you shook your head.

"never."

"then why are you saying that about yourself?"

you didn't have an answer.

james softly smilied.

"exactly."

he kissed your forehead, long and gentle.

"you trusted your instincts."

another kiss.

"you spoke up."

another.

"you did everything right."

your eyes burned again, this time for a different reason.

"you believe me?"

the question slipped out before you could stop it, james looked heartbroken.

"baby."

his hands cupped your cheek.

"of course i believe you"

the words settled somewhere deep inside your chest, a place that had been hurting all day.

"you never have to earn being believed."

and for the first time since your shift started that morning, you felt yourself breathe, really breathe, safe, seen, understood.

james pulled you closer until your head rested over his heartbeat.

and while the day had been awful, while your manager's words still stung, while the memory still made your skin crawl…

you didn't feel alone with it anymore.

and somehow, with james quietly holding you against his chest, that made all the difference.

BETWEEN THE TRACKS

PAIRINGS: idol ! james x 6th member lsrfm ! reader GENRE: slow burn,romance, fluff, slice of life, idol au, friends to lovers, secret relationship, comedy WARNINGS: kpop industry pressure, rumors and dating speculations, some emotional moments, long work hours, teasing from members. WC: 4459 words SYNOPSIS: what begins as a songwriting partnership slowly becomes the industry’s worst kept secret. !NOT PROOFREAD!

You finally arrived at the HYBE building, expecting nothing more than another comeback meeting with your group members. It’s probably going to be the usual: discussing concepts, listening to demos, and debating choreography for hours.

You walk through the large glass doors, where a security guard greets you with a polite bow. You return the gesture before making your way across the bright lobby. The sound of conversations and distant music echoes through the building as you step into the elevator and press the button for the upper floor.

The doors begin to close.

You finally made your way to the fourth floor and headed toward the conference room. After taking a deep breath, you push open the door.

Inside, all of your fellow members are already seated around the large conference table. Some are chatting among themselves, while others scroll through their phones as they wait for the meeting to begin. As soon as you step in, a few heads turn in your direction.

“Finally,” Yunjin says with a grin. “We were about to start without you.”

“No, you weren’t,” you laugh, glancing at the clock. “You’re actually early for once.”

“Wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.”

The room fills with quiet laughter as you set your bag down on the table. Coffee cups, notebooks, and concept boards were scattered everywhere, making it obvious that today’s meeting is more important than usual.

Before anyone can continue joking around, the conference door opens again.

The conversation dies down almost instantly as several producers and staff members walk inside.

One of them places a stack of folders on the table before smiling at the group.

“Thank you all for coming. We have something very special planned for this comeback.”

The room falls silent.

The creative director clicks a small remote, and the screen at the front of the conference room lights up with the words.

LE SSERAFIM COMEBACK PROJECT

A few concept photos flash across the screen before changing to a slide labeled production team.

You lean forward in your chair, curious about what could be so different this time.

“For this comeback,” the creative director begins, “we want to create something that feels fresh while still capturing LE SSERAFIM’s identity. Because of that, we’ve decided to bring in additional help for the songwriting and production process.”

The members exchange confused glances.

“Additional help?” Yunjin whispers.

Chaewon shrugs. “Maybe they’re bringing in an outside producer.”

The creative director smiles, clearly enjoying the suspense.

“However, this won’t be a typical collaboration. Rather than simply handing you a finished track, this person will be working alongside one of you throughout the entire production process.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“One of us?”

“Yes,” he replies. “After reviewing everyone’s previous songwriting credits and demo submissions, we’ve decided who would be the best fit.”

The room becomes so quiet that you can hear the soft hum of the projector.

You didn’t think much of it. Whoever it is, you’ll probably just meet them briefly and get back to preparing for the comeback. 

The creative director looks down at his notes before smiling.

“Would you come in, please?”

The conference room door opens.

Every head turns toward the entrance.

A figure steps in.

“Everyone,” the creative director says, “this is James. He’ll be joining the production team for this comeback and working closely with you.”

He looks directly at you.

For a second, neither of you says anything.

Then James gives a small nod.

“Nice to meet you,” James says, offering a polite nod.

You return the gesture. “Nice to meet you too.”

The room is quiet for a moment, the kind of silence that comes when everyone is trying to figure someone out.

The creative director claps his hands once.

“Great. Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get started.”

James takes the empty seat across from you and places a notebook and laptop on the table. Everything is perfectly organized, from the neatly stacked papers to the pencils resting beside him.

You glance over for only a second before looking back at the presentation.

He seems serious, you think.

“For this comeback,” the creative director continues, clicking to the next slide, “we’re aiming for something powerful but emotional. We want a sound that feels fresh while highlighting the group’s strengths.”

He turns toward you.

“That’s why you’ll be working closely with James throughout the production process. From lyric writing to recording sessions, the two of you will collaborate until the final version is complete.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly.

“The two of us?”

“That’s correct.”

THE NEXT DAY 44 days until the comeback

Your alarm blares at 7:00 a.m.

After hitting snooze twice, you finally drag yourself out of bed and get ready. The morning air is cool as you make your way back to the HYBE building, an iced coffee in one hand and your notebook tucked under your arm.

The lobby is already bustling with staff members and idols rushing between schedules.

You glance down at your phone.

9:56 a.m.

“Four minutes early,” you mumble to yourself.

Following the directions the staff gave you yesterday, you walk down a quiet hallway until you stop in front of a studio door labeled Studio 3.

You hesitate for a second before knocking.

“Come in.”

You push the door open.

James is already there.

His laptop is open, headphones resting around his neck, and several pages of handwritten lyrics are spread neatly across the desk.

He looks up at you.

Then at the clock.

9:57 a.m. 

“You’re early,” he says.

You smile as you set your coffee down on the table.

“I could say the same thing.”

He closes his notebook.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“It means we won’t waste any time.”

You pull out the chair across from him.

20 DAYS LATER 24 days until the comeback

Twenty days of nonstop schedules, recording sessions, and lyric revisions have passed in what feels like the blink of an eye.

Somewhere along the way, the awkward silence between you and James disappeared.

Conversations that once revolved around chord progressions and vocal layering somehow turned into debates over the best late night snacks, childhood stories, and which songs belonged on a road trip playlist.

The studio has become your second home.

Empty coffee cups crowded the desk, crumpled lyric sheets covered the floor, and sticky notes with random ideas were plastered across the computer monitor.

You glance at the clock.

11:48 p.m.

“We’ve been here since nine this morning,” you mumble, stretching your arms above your head.

James doesn’t even look up from his laptop.

“Nine thirty.”

You stare at him.

“You actually corrected me over thirty minutes?”

“Accuracy matters.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

For the first time that night, he lets out a quiet laugh.

You blink.

“Did you just laugh?”

He immediately returns to typing.

“No.”

“You definitely did.”

“You’re hearing things.”

Before you can argue, the studio door swings open.

Martin walks in carrying two paper filled bags with food.

He stops in the doorway and looks between you and James.

Then at the pile of lyric sheets.

Then back at the two of you.

“Wow,” he says. “You guys actually live here now.”

You sigh dramatically.

“Save us.”

Martin sets the bags on the table.

“I brought dinner before one of you forgets that humans need food.”

You immediately reached for a box of chicken.

“You’re my favorite person.”

James quietly takes his own meal.

Martin watches the two of you for a moment, a knowing smile creeping onto his face.

“You know,” he says casually, "I've never seen James spend this much time with anyone.”

James freezes.

“We’re working.”

“Uh-huh.”

Martin turns to you.

“And I've never seen someone willingly listen to him explain audio compression for fifty-five minutes.”

You laugh.

“To be fair, I only understood about ten minutes of it.”

“That’s still ten minutes more than the rest of us.”

James pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Can you stop interrogating my coworker?’

Martin raises his hands in surrender.

“Coworker. Right.”

He looks between the two of you one last time before heading for the door.

“Anyway, don’t stay up too late.”

He pauses, a grin spreading across his face.

“Or do. It’s kind of entertaining watching this slow burn drama happen in real time.”

The door closes.

Silence.

You and James exchange a confused glance.

“What was that supposed to mean?” you ask.

James shakes his head and opens his notebook again.

“Just ignore him.”

You nod, though the compliment lingers in your mind for a moment before you push it aside.

14 DAYS LATER 5 days until the comeback

The HYBE building feels different.

Everyone walks faster.

Staff members rush through the hallways carrying garment bags and camera equipment. Choreographers move from practice room to practice room, producers are running on little more than coffee, and managers are constantly checking their phones.

There are only five days left until the comeback.

Which means there are only five days left for mistakes.

The title track is finished.

The choreography is finalized.

The music video has been filmed.

Now everyone is simply trying to survive the final week.

Meanwhile, in one of the practice rooms, the cortis members are taking a short break.

Martin tosses a water bottle toward James.

He catches it without looking.

“You’ve been smiling a lot lately.”

James twists the cap off.

“I have?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Keonho sits beside Martin.

“I’ve never seen him answer texts this fast.”

Juhoon nods.

“Or volunteer to stay at the company until midnight.”

Seonghyeon looks over from the couch.

“He even fixed his hair before going to Studio 3 yesterday.”

James finally looks up.

“You guys notice everything?”

Martin laughs.

“When it’s this obvious? Yeah.”

James takes another sip of water.

No one speaks.

Then Martin asks,

“So…”

“…”

“…Do you like her?”

The room becomes completely still.

Even Juhoon stops eating.

James stared at the floor for several seconds.

Finally, he exhales.

“…Yeah.”

Four heads snap towards him.

Martin blinks.

“Wait.”

“You actually admitted it?”

James rubs the back of his neck.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“So you DO like her?”

“…Yes.”

Keonho points dramatically.

“I KNEW IT!”

“I told you!” Juhoon says, standing up.

Seonghyeon throws his hands into the air.

“I’ve been saying this for weeks!”

Martin shakes his head, trying not to laugh.

“So our quiet genius has a crush.”

James groans.

“Can we not call it that?”

“What should we call it then?’

“…”

“…” “I like her.”

The room erupts.

“HE SAID IT AGAIN!”

“I owe Martin twenty dollars.”

“I knew those late night studio sessions meant something.”

James bruises his face in his hands.

“You guys are impossible.”

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, the practice room door had been left slightly open.

Yunjin, who had been walking past on her way to grab coffee, froze the moment she heard your name.

She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

But now?

There was no absolute chance she was leaving.

She quietly stood outside the door, listening just long enough to hear Martin say,

“So when are you going to tell her?”

James looked at the floor.

“…I don’t know.”

Yunjin’s eyes widened.

She immediately spun around and speed walked down the hallway.

“No way…” Ten minutes later…

Inside LE SSERAFIM’s waiting room, Sakura, Chaewon, Kazuha, and Eunchae, sat in a circle while Yunjin whispered excitedly.

“I’m serious.”

“He admitted it.”

Chaewon blinked.

“He WHAT?”

“He likes her!”

Eunchae covered her mouth.

“I KNEW IT.”

Kazuha smiled.

“So what do we do?”

Yunjin grinned.

“We tell absolutely no one.”

The others nodded.

Then Sakura added,

“…Except each other.”

Just then, the door handle turned.

The room instantly fell silent.

You stepped inside, carrying your notebook and an iced coffee.

You looked around at your members, who were suddenly sitting unusually straight and pretending to look at their phones.

“…Why is everyone so quiet?”

“No reason,” Chaewon answered a little too quickly.

You narrowed your eyes.

“…What are you talking about?”

Yunjin smiled innocently.

“Oh, nothing.”

Eunchae nodded a little too enthusiastically.

“Yep. nothing at all.”

You glanced between all of them.

“…You’re being weird.”

The five of them exchange nervous looks.

None of them noticed the small smile slowly forming on Yunjin’s face.

She had absolutely no intention of keeping this secret for long.

The silence in the room stretched for a few more seconds.

You set your iced coffee on the table and looked around suspiciously.

“…Seriously. What happened when I was gone?”

Sakura was suddenly very interested in fixing the sleeve of her hoodie.

Kazuha stared at the ceiling as if it contained the answer to the universe.

Eunchae picked up her phone and pretended to scroll, though the screen was completely black.

Yunjin bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling.

“Nothing happened.” You crossed your arms.

“You’re lying to me.”

“We’re not.”

“You are.”

Chaewon sighed.

“Can we please act normal?”

Yunjin immediately looked at her.

“You’re telling me to act normal?”

Chaewon shot her a warning look.

“Don’t.”

“…I didn’t say anything.”

“…Don’t.”

You looked between the two of them.

“Okay, now I’m definitely missing something.”

Eunchae quickly stood up.

“Who wants snacks?”

Nobody answered.

“Great! I’ll go get snacks.”

She practically sprinted out of the room.

You blinked.

“…That was weird.”

Sakura nodded a little too quickly.

“Very weird.”

“You’re all weird.”

“We’re tired.”

“No.”

“We’re stressed.”

“No.”

“It’s comeback week.”

“…Still no.”

Yunjin could feel herself losing the battle against her own curiosity.

She leaned closer to Chaewon and whispered,

“How long are we actually going to keep this from her?”

Chaewon whispered back,

“Until we’re sure.”

“Sure of what? He literally said he likes her.”

“Yunjin.”

“What?”

“Volume.”

Yunjin's eyes widened.

She slowly turned toward you.

You were staring at her.

“…Who likes who?”

The room froze.

Chaewon closed her eyes.

Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose.

Kazuha looked like she wanted to disappear into the couch.

Yunjin laughed awkwardly.

“…Nobody.”

“You literally just said, ‘He likes her.’ “

“…Did I?”

“Yes.”

“…I meant…” She looked desperately at the others for help.

None came.

“I meant…the main character in a drama I watched.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“…You don’t watch dramas.”

“I started today.”

“…Today.”

“Today.”

The room fell silent again.

Then, all at once, everyone’s phone buzzed.

Chaewon glanced at the notification.

Manager: meeting in the conference room B. five minutes.

She stood up immediately.

“Let’s go.”

Everyone grabbed their things as quickly as possible.

You followed behind them, still unconvinced.

As you walked out into the hallway, you caught Yunjin and Eunchae exchanging a grin before looking away the moment they noticed you.

You narrowed your eyes.

They’re hiding something.

You just didn’t know that, across the building, James was getting teased by his own members for the exact same reason.

James had barely made it back to the practice room before Martin was waiting for him.

Arms crossed.

Grinning.

Which was never a good sign.

“So,” Martin began.

James didn’t even look up from his phone.

“No.”

“I didn’t even ask anything yet.”

“You were about to.”

“Correct.”

Keonho walked over with a bottle of water and handed it to James.

“Here.”

James accepted it.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

James took one sip.

Keonho smiled.

“Now tell us when you’re asking her out.”

James nearly choked.

“I’m not.”

Juhoon burst into laughter.

“That’s not what you said earlier.”

“I said I liked her.”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m asking her out.”

Martin leaned against the mirror.

“Then what’s your plan?”

“…” “You do have a plan, right?”

“…No.”

The room erupted.

“HE HAS NO PLAN!”

“I knew it!”

“He’s hopeless.”

Seonghyeon clapped James on the shoulder.

“For someone who’s good at producing music, you’re terrible at producing romance.”

James rubbed his temples.

“Can we please just talk about something else?”

Martin shook his head.

“Absolutely not.”

“We have choreography practice.”

“And?”

“A comeback in five days.”

“And?”

“We’re busy.”

Martin smiled.

“You know what else is busy?”

James sighed.

“…What?”

“Your brain every time she walks into a room.”

The others immediately started laughing again.

Before James could defend himself, his phone buzzed on the bench beside him.

Everyone’s eyes darted toward the screen.

The notification lit up:

You:

Do you still have the notebook with the revised bridge? I think I left it in Studio 3.

Martin gasped dramatically.

“Don’t touch it.”

James frowned.

“Why?”

“We’re conducting research.”

Keonho folded his arms.

“Let’s see how long it takes you to reply.”

James looked at all of them.

“…You’re joking.”

Juhoon pulled out his phone.

“Three…”

“Two…”

“One…” James rolled his eyes and typed a response.

James:

Yeah. I have it. I’ll bring it to you after practice.

He hit send.

Martin looked at the stopwatch on his phone.

“Eight seconds.”

Seonghyeon pretended to write in an invisible notebook.

“Subject exhibits immediate response when contacted by her.”

“Symptoms include smiling, staying late at the studio, and voluntarily carrying her notebooks.”

“Diagnosis?”

Martin nodded seriously.

“Completely gone.”

James buried his face in his hands.

“I’m surrounded by children.”

Martin laughed.

“Yep.”

He glanced at the phone still in James’s hand before adding,

“But if you don’t tell her soon, someone else is going to figure it out first.”

At that exact moment, halfway across the building, Yunjin was sitting beside Chaewon with a suspicious smile.

“You know,” she whispered, "I have a feeling this isn’t going to stay a secret much longer.”

Chaewon followed your gaze as you walked down the hallway toward Studio 3.

Then she looked over at James approaching from the opposite direction, notebook in hand.

The two of you hadn't noticed each other yet.

She quietly sighed.

“Five days until the comeback…”

“…and somehow, I’m more worried about these two than the performance.”

5 DAYS LATER comeback day

The alarm goes off long before the sun rises.

Today is the day.

Months of recording, rehearsals, photoshoots, interviews, and sleepless nights have all led to this very moment.

The waiting room is buzzing with hair stylists, makeup artists, managers, and staff members rushing from one corner to another.

Despite all the noise, you can only think about one thing.

For the past five days, your members have been acting very strange.

Every time you ask what’s going on, they change the subject.

Every.

Single.

Time.

You finish getting your makeup on and walk over to where Yunjin is sitting.

She looks up.

You cross your arms.

“I’m asking one last time.”

She pretends not to know what you’re talking about.

“About what?”

“You know exactly what.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

You sigh.

“Yunjin.”

“Nope.”

“Please.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve been asking for days.”

“Nope.”

“You owe me.”

“Nope.”

You sit beside her.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

She continues scrolling through her phone.

Five second pass.

Ten.

Twenty.

Finally, she locks her phone and looks at you.

“…Promise you won’t freak out.”

Your heart immediately starts racing.

“I promise.”

“And don’t blame me.”

“…Okay?”

“And don’t tell anyone I told you.”

“Yunjin.”

“Fine.”

She takes a deep breath.

“The day you were in Studio 3…”

“…Yeah?”

“I walked past the practice room.”

You blink.

“So?”

“I heard James talking.”

Your expression changes.

“…Talking about what?”

Yunjin lowers her voice.

“He likes you.”

You stare at her. “…What?”

“He admitted it.”

“…”

“…”

“He told all of the members.”

Your mind goes completely blank.

“No.”

“I’m serious.”

“No.”

“He literally said, ‘Yeah, I like her.’ “

You shake your head.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Stop messing with me.”

“I’m not!”

You search her face for any sign that she’s teasing you.

There isn’t one.

Your heartbeat gets louder.

“So…”

“…he actually likes me?”

Yunjin smiles.

“I think he’s liked you for a while.”

You sit there in complete silence.

Everything suddenly makes sense.

The late night conversations.

The extra coffee he always brought you.

The way he’d save you a seat.

The tiny smiles.

The lingering eye contact.

You whisper,

“…I like him too.”

Yunjin’s eyes go wide.

“I KNEW IT.”

Before she can celebrate any further, Chaewon walks over.

“What happened?”

Yunjin points at you dramatically.

“SHE LIKES HIM.”

Chaewon freezes.

Then smiles.

“I knew that too.”

Within seconds, Sakura, Kazuha, and Eunchae gathered around.

The five of them exchange victorious looks.

“We’ve literally been waiting for this.”

Across the building…

James is adjusting his microphone when Martin walks over.

“So.”

James already knows.

“No.”

“You haven’t confessed yet.”

“No.”

“You should.”

“No.”

Keonho joins them.

“You know what today’s for?”

“The comeback.”

“And?”

“…The comeback.”

“And?”

Juhoon laughs.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Martin looks at him like he’s asked the world’s easiest question.

“Then she’ll tell you.”

“And if she does?”

Martin grins.

“Then you’ve wasted enough time already.”

Seonghyeon pats him on the back.

“You write emotional lyrics for millions of people.”

“Sure.”

“But you can’t tell one girl how you feel?”

James had no response.

The members all look at each other.

Martin claps once.

“Alright.”

“Operation Confession.”

Later that evening…

The comeback showcase has ended.

Fans are cheering outside.

Staff members are celebrating.

You step into one of the quieter hallways to catch your breath.

As you’re about to leave, you hear footsteps behind you.

You turn around.

It’s James.

He looks just as nervous as you feel.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then he smiles.

“…Congratulations.”

“You too.”

Another silence.

Finally, James laughs quietly.

“I’m usually good with words.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“But apparently not today.”

You smile.

“Take your time.”

He looks down before meeting your eyes again.

“I like you.”

Your heart nearly stops.

“I know.”

His eyes widened.

“…You know?”

You nod.

“Yunjin told me.”

He covers his face with one hand.

“I’m going to have a conversation with Martin.”

You laugh.

“I should probably have one with Yunjin.”

The tension disappears.

James looks at you again.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“I’ve liked spending time with you.”

“I know.”

“I’ve liked…”

He pauses.

"…You."

You take one small step closer.

“I like you too.”

He blinks.

“…Really?”

“Really.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, James is completely speechless.

You laugh.

“So?”

“So?”

“Aren’t you going to do something?”

He smiles.

“I was hoping you were thinking the same thing.”

The distance between you disappears.

He gently cups your hand.

Then leans in.

The kiss is soft, brief, and almost hesitant.

When you pull away, neither of you can stop smiling.

Unfortunately…

Neither of you notices Martin peeking around the corner.

He quietly backs away.

Pulls out his phone.

And types in the cortis group chat:

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

THREE MONTHS LATER

Keeping the relationship private turns out to be much harder than either of you expected.

Fans notice everything.

Every glance during award shows.

Every smile backstage.

Every wink.

Everytime James unconsciously looks for you in a crowd.

Social media is filled with edits and theories.

“There’s no way they’re just friends.”

“Someone count how many times he looked at her.”“I’m either delusional or they’re dating.”

The compilations only get longer.

Eventually, after discussing it with your company and with each other, you decided that you’d rather tell everyone yourselves than let rumors keep growing.

WEVERSE LIVE

The livestream begins.

The comments fly by faster than either of you can read.

“WHY ARE YOU TWO LIVE TOGETHER?”

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

You glance at James.

He nods.

You take a deep breath.

“There’s something we’ve wanted to tell everyone.”

James smiles.

“We know many of you have noticed our friendship over the past few months.”

You continue,

“And after thinking about it carefully, we wanted you to hear this from us.”

He reaches over and gently takes your hand.

The chat explodes.

“We’re together.”

For a split second, there is silence between the two of you.

Then you both laugh.

You shake your head.

“I guess all those editors were onto something.”

James smiles.

“They noticed before we did.”

The comments flood the screen with hearts, congratulations, and jokes about how the “slow burn finally reached the last chapter.”

And somewhere, watching from another room, Yunjin and Martin high fived each other.

“We told you,” Yunjin says proudly.

Martin grins.

“The fans didn't figure it out.”

i only have eyes for you.

pairings: idol! james x fem!reader genre: comfort, fluff, romance, slice of life, insecurity/comfort, established relationship, soft angst with happy ending :) warnings: mentions of strangers flirting, jealousy, self doubt (no cheating nor love triangle), insecure reader. wc: 800 words synopsis: going out with james means constantly watching strangers try to catch his attention. but while everyone else has their eyes on him, his are only ever on you.

when lights finally dim

↬ pairings: seonghyeon x 6th member!reader ↬ warnings: overworking, exhaustion, burnout, fever, emotional vulnerability, light illness ↬ genre: idol au, fluff, slow burn, hurt/comfort. ↬ wc: 2,400 words. ↬ synopsis: the youngest member of cortis refuses to slow down before their very big comeback, until her body makes that decision for her.

↬ EIGHT DAYS BEFORE THE COMEBACK

the practice room clock had read 11:47 PM. everyone had stopped paying attention to it hours ago.

music blasted through the speakers for what felt like the thousandth time that day as the six of you stood in formation. again.

"and five, six, seven, eight!"

the choreographer sighed.

"reset."

you nodded before anyone else could.

"i'm okay."

no one had asked.

seonghyeon had glanced over.

your smile appeared immediately when you noticed him looking, the kind you always wore whenever someone seemed concerned.

he knew that smile too well. it meant the opposite.

then, the music started again.

by the end of the run through, your breathing had become very uneven, but instead of asking for water, you jogged back into position.

"one more."

james blinked, staring at you with concern.

"you sure?"

you laughed.

"if we do it one more time, we'll get it."

the other members exchanged looks.

one more became four more tries.

two hours later, everyone collapsed to the floor.

martin ordered late night food from a convenience store.

juhoon was stretched against the mirror.

you were the only one that was still practicing.

again.

again.

and again.

the move where you spun and landed perfectly had been bothering you. you missed it once, then twice, so you kept going.

seonghyeon stood up.

"you're done."

you looked over.

"i'm almost there."

"you've been at the same move for around forty minutes."

"i just need—“

"you need to sit."

"i can sit later."

"you said that yesterday."

"and?"

"and the day before yesterday."

you laughed.

"you sound just like my mom."

he folded his arms across his chest.

"good."

you stuck your tongue out before returning to the mirror.

he sighed.

"this kid."

the new comeback was huge. new concept, new styling, new expectation.

articles were everywhere, already calling it CORTIS' biggest era yet. everyone felt pressure.

but yours seemed much more different.

being the youngest meant you always felt like you had to prove yourself. if someone complimented your vocals, you worked on your dancing.

if someone praised your dancing, you practiced your expressions.

if someone had praised everything…

you searched for something else to improve on.

the company stylist arrived the following morning. they had began fitting outfits.

you stood while pins were adjusted to your jacket.

"you've lost weight."

you blinked.

"huh?"

"this fit perfectly fine last week."

"i'm fine."

"you've been eating, right?"

"mhm."

seonghyeon looked up from his phone, you answered too quickly.

later, lunch had arrived. everyone grabbed boxes. you opened yours. then your phone buzzed.

you checked it.

practice schedule updates. you quietly closed your food.

"i'll eat later."

seonghyeon reached over.

"no."

"hm?"

he pushed the box back towards you.

"now."

"i will."

"now."

you smiled.

"you're so bossy."

"i'm serious."

"so am i."

five minutes later he looked over, your food was untouched. you had fallen asleep sitting upright.

he gently tapped your shoulder.

"hey."

your eyes opened instantly.

"i'm awake!"

"i know."

"no, really."

"you were literally holding your chopsticks while sleeping."

your cheeks had turned a bright shade of pink.

"no i wasn't."

keonho pulled out his phone.

"i took a picture."

"no!"

you lunged towards him.

all the other members laughed. for a moment, everything felt normal.

it didn't last for too long.

the next rehearsal was harder.

the choreography had changed.

the vocal arrangement had changed as well.

you stayed behind after everyone had left. the mirrors only reflected on one person now.

you.

you repeated the bridge.

again.

again.

and again.

your voice cracked. you coughed.

"it's fine."

you drank water.

again.

again.

and again.

outside the room, seonghyeon stood quietly. he never went in, he just watched.

after another twenty minutes, you finally sat down. not because you wanted to, but because the room suddenly tilted.

you rubbed your eyes.

"i'm just tired."

you stood, the floor had disagreed.

he caught your arm before you hit it. you looked very surprised.

"when did you get here?"

"…don't tell the others."

"why?"

"they'll worry."

"they already do."

you looked away instantly.

"i can't be the weak one."

he answered immediately.

"you're not."

the silence that followed somehow felt much more louder than the music ever had been.

the next morning, you arrived first. the staff looked surprised.

"you slept here?"

you laughed awkwardly.

"…maybe."

"you mean yes."

you scratched your neck."

"i was working."

"since when?"

you had checked your phone, it was at 3%.

the time stamp on your last practice video read 3:18 AM. your first schedule was starting at 7:00 AM.

four hours. that was enough, right?

you smiled. "i'm okay."

except this time, even you didn't believe it.

↬ FIVE DAYS BEFORE THE COMEBACK

"no."

that was seonghyeon's answer after watching you nearly miss a step.

"i'm fine."

"no."

"i just slipped."

"no."

"it happens."

"no."

"you only know just one word today?"

"apparently."

the members tried not to laugh. you pouted dramatically.

"you're being mean."

"i'm being correct."

by afternoon, the air conditioning in the practice room had felt freezing. everyone else complained it was too cold for them.

you secretly thought it was too hot.

your sweatshirt stayed on. then another. your hands shook slightly while you opened your water bottle. you blamed the cap.

the choreographer finally had called a break. you immediately stood to practice alone.

the manager stopped you.

"break."

"i know."

"so…?"

"i'm going to practice during it."

"that's not what a break is."

you grinned. "it is for me."

that evening the members climbed into the van. you took the window seat

normally you talked non stop. today you just rested your forehead against the glass. the city lights had blurred together.

seonghyeon glanced over.

"you okay?"

"mhm."

"you've answered everything today with 'mhm'."

"mhm."

"…exactly."

he gently reached over and touched your forehead. you flinched.

"what?"

his expression changed.

"you're burning up."

"no i'm not."

"you absolutely are."

"nope."

"you have a fever."

"no."

"you are literally arguing with temperature."

"i don't get sick."

the manager turned around to see what the commotion was.

"what happened?"

before seonghyeon could answer, you smiled.

"nothing!"

then you sneezed. twice.

silence.

back at the dorms, everyone surrounded you.

"i'm fine."

"no," martin said.

"it's allergies."

"in december?" james added.

"…seasonal?"

"what season?" seonghyeon asked.

"…all of them?"

no one believed a word you said.

a thermometer appeared.

"no."

"yes."

"i don't want to."

"too bad."

"i'll survive."

"thats exactly why were checking," keonho said.

you crossed your arms. "this is betrayal."

juhoon whispered,

"she's dramatic when she's sick."

"i'm not sick!"

beep.

the manager looked at the screen. then back at you, then back.

"…you're done for today."

"what?"

"bed."

"i have to do recording."

"no."

"i have--"

"bed. now."

you lost. mostly because standing suddenly felt physically impossible. your legs felt twice your weight. the hallway had seemed longer,.

you reached your room. then stopped.

your vision blurred.

the next thing you knew, someone was holding onto your shoulders,

"easy.'

it was seonghyeon.

"i can walk you know."

"i know."

"i'm walking."

"you've been standing still for about forty seconds."

"oh."

the companies doctor confirmed it.

high fever, sever exhaustion.

"you need to rest."

"i have schedules."

"you need rest."

"the comeback--"

"you need rest."

you looked defeated. the room became quiet. finally, in a tiny voice, you asked.

"…did i mess everything up?"

he didn't answer immediately. because he knew that wasn't what mattered.

seonghyeon sat beside you.

"you know what's actually messing things up."

you shook your head.

"you thinking you have to earn your place every single day."

your eyes widened.

"i do."

"no."

"i'm the youngest."

"so?"

"i don't want anyone regretting adding me to the lineup."

he stared at you, then laughed once.

"you think any of us want cortis without you?"

you looked down.

"i don't know."

he gently flicked your forehead. "dummy."

for the first time in weeks. you cried, not loudly, just quietly.

tiny tears falling from your eyes, onto your blanket.

"i'm trying really hard."

"i know."

"what if it's still not good enough?"

he answered without any hesitation.

"it already is."

that night the dorm looked very different. someone made soup, someone found medicine, someone brought extra blankets, someone complained that you always stole their hoodies anyway, so you might as well wear one now.

the living room became a tiny hospital tun by five people who have no clue on what they were doing.

you couldn't stop smiling.

at 2:17 AM, you woke up.

the fever hadn't broken, you sat up slowly.

a blanket slipped off your shoulders.

"you awake?"

you turned.

seoghyeon sat on the floor beside the couch.

"…have you been there the whole time i was sleeping?"

he shrugged.

"maybe."

"you should sleep."

"so should you."

"you have practice tomorrow."

"so do you."

"i won't be there."

"no."

"…sorry."

he had blinked genuinely confused.

"for what?"

"for becoming a problem."

his face softened.

"you know what family does when a person gets sick?"

"what?"

"they take care of them."

he pulled the fuzzy white blanket back over your shoulders.

"so quit apologizing."

for the first time since preparations began, your eyes closed without worrying about the next day.

↬ COMEBACK DAY

three days later. the fever had went away. but the exhaustion was still there.

the doctor allowed you to return under one condition.

“no overworking yourself.”

everyone had looked at you.

you looked at the floor.

“…i’ll try.”

the practice room erupted.

“she’s back!” martin had yelled dramatically.

keonho pretended to cry.

juhoon had handed you a water bottle before you even sat down.

your manager pointed.

“drink.”

“i just got here.”

“drink it.”

you sighed. “fine.”

seonghyeon smiled. “good.”

things were much more different now.

whenever rehearsal ended, someone dragged you away from the mirror.

whenever meals arrived, someone watched you as you finished the meal.

whenever you said, “i’m okay.”

someone answered, “we know. eat anyways.”

it became a running joke.

the showcase arrived. fans, lights, and cameras.

the countdown began.

your heart raced. “what if i mess up?”

seonghyeon adjusted your in ear monitor.

“what if you don’t?”

“what if i forget everything?”

“you won’t.”

“what if—“

he held a hand up.

“no more what ifs.”

you nodded. then he smiled.

“and if i do something wrong?”

“we’re six people.”

he pointed towards the stage. “nobody’s falling alone.”

the music had started. one beat, two, three. the curtain lifted.

thousands of lightsticks sparkled like stars across the arena.

you forgot your fear. your body has remembered everything. the choreography flowed. the vocals soared.

every member found the others exactly where they needed to be.

when your center part came, the cheers became deafening.

for a split second, your eyes met seonghyeon’s.

he gave you the tiniest nod.

see?

you’re here.

the performance had ended. applause echoed everywhere.

backstage, everyone collapsed onto the couches. sweaty, happy, exhausted.

the manager walked in. “you all did very well.”

the room had filled with cheers. the manager looked directly at you.

“and you.”

you stood up straighter.

“…yes?”

“i’m very proud of you.”

you smiled. “thank you.”

“but.”

“…but?”

“you took your break.”

the other members started dramatically clapping.

you groaned.

“can we stop talking about that forever?”

“no.”

“please?”

“no.”

“i’ll buy everyone snacks.”

tempting, but still no.

later that night, everyone had returned to the dorm, you stepped onto the balcony.

the city shimmered below. the door slid open.

seonghyeon walked outside carrying two cups of warm tea. he handed you one.

“you okay?”

this time, you thought before you answered.

then you smiled.

“…i’m okay.”

he laughed. “good.”

“and happy.”

“even better.”

“and…”

you looked down at the warming cup in your hands.

“i think i finally understand something.”

“what?”

“i don’t have to prove that i belong here every single day.”

“no.”

“because i’m already part of cortis.”

“exactly.”

the silence between the two of you wasn’t awkward. it was peaceful.

inside, the other members were shouting for the both of you to come play a game.

martin insisted he was going to win.

keonho accused him of cheating even before the game had started.

you laughed.

“they’re so loud.”

“they’re your family.”

you nodded, then headed inside.

the comeback had been a success.

the performances would continue.

schedules would pile up again.

and there would be hard days in the future.

but now, whenever someone had asked you how you were doing, there was a new answer.

not “i’m okay.”

not “i’m fine.”

just the truth.

and somehow, surrounded by five members who refused to leave you to carry stuff alone, that truth had felt lighter than ever.

dating headcannons : cortis

pairings: cortis!ot5 x gn!readergenre: fluff, slice of life, comfort, friends to lovers, romance, comedy, slow burn warnings: teasing, clinginess, awkward flirting, emotional conversations, mentions of stress and exhaustion. wc: ~1k (?) synopsis: headcannons of what it would be like dating the cortis members! (this is a fanfic, none of this is based on how they would act in real life!!!)

james : 제임스

he remembers everything. not just the big things, but even the ting things.

the fact that you always pick the marshmallows out of the chocolate first.

the fact that you hate when your sleeves get in the way while washing your hands.

the fact that you once mentioned wanting to try a specific dessert from a café three months ago, that you'd completely forgotten you had mentioned.

then one random afternoon:

"close your eyes."

"what are you doing?"

"just trust me."

you'd open them to find the exact dessert sitting on the table.

"how did you even remember that?"

james shrugged like it wasn't that big of a deal.

"you said you wanted it."

as if remembering something from months ago was the most normal thing to do in the world.

his love language would make your life so much easier.

you mention your phone is about to die?

a portable charger appears.

you mention you're cold?

he gives you his hoodie.

you mention you're hungry?

he brings snacks.

it's like dating someone who has a permanent side quest called "make sure they're okay."

martin : 마틴

dating martin would feel like having a boyfriend and a best friend at the same time.

he absolutely makes everything fun.

going grocery shopping?

he makes it an adventure.

waiting in line?

adventure.

talking a walk?

he makes it a mission to find certain colors.

his everyday mission would be to make you laugh or just to see you smile.

that's it.

he'll do stupid impressions.

he'll make dramatic speeches about random topics.

he'll tell jokes that are very terrible.

sometimes he'll completely fail.

but just seeing him try somehow makes it even funnier.

he also would get very excited about your interests. you mention liking something, suddenly he's researching about it.

learning about it.

asking questions.

not because he has to.

but because he genuinely likes hearing you talk about things you love. nothing makes him happier than seeing your face light up when explaining something.

juhoon : 주훈

he's like a quiet caretaker. juhoon isn't really necessarily the type to constantly say "i love you."

instead, he shows you.

everyday. in little ways.

he notices everything.

when you walk into a room. nobody else notices anything, but juhoon does.

"you seem tired."

"what?"

"you rubbed your eyes about three times in twelve minutes."

"…"

"you should rest later."

it's almost scary how observant he is.

comfort just naturally comes to him. he doesn't always exactly know what to say.

but he always knows how to be there. sometimes that means talking. sometimes it means sitting beside you in comfortable silence. sometimes it means letting you lean against his shoulder while watching a movie.

no pressure, no expectations, just his presence.

keonho : 건호

he's literally a human sunshine.

being around him feels like opening the curtains after a gloomy day.

he has so much energy and affection to give. and most of it ends up directed at you.

his physical affection would him giving you a lot, and i mean a lot of hugs, random hugs, celebration hugs, comforting hugs, side hugs, back hugs, every type of hug imaginable.

he also loves taking photos of you.

not perfect photos.

not posed photos.

the candid ones, the moments where you're laughing your brains out.

reading.

looking at something you're really excited about.

the moments you don't realize are beautiful.

those end up becoming his favorites.

seonghyeon : 성현

he's cool until it involves you.

everyone thinks he's composed. confident. unbothered.

then you compliment him.

suddenly everything falls apart.

"you look really nice today."

silence.

"…thanks."

his ears immediately turn red.

you try not to laugh.

"why are you smiling?"

"nothing."

"you're definitely smiling about something."

late night calls are his favorite moments.

the conversation that starts at 10 p.m. and somehow would continue until 2 a.m.

you talk about everything. dreams, childhood memories, random nonsense, future plans.

neither of you wants to be the first person to hang up.

he's protective but gentle.

not in an overbearing way. but in a thoughtful way.

making sure you eat.

checking if you got home safely.

offering his jacket before you even realize you're cold.

a quiet kind of care

pairings: keonho x afab!readergenre: fluff, slice of life, comfort wc: ~1,446 wordswarnings: period cramps, mentions of fatigue and painsynopsis: when period cramps ruin your day, keonho is determined to make it ten times better.

You woke up from your nap completely unaware of the date. Still half asleep, you stretched beneath your warm blanket. 

Then a sharp pain shot through your abdomen. 

You immediately groaned and buried your face into your pillows.

“Are you serious?” you mumbled.

As if your period had been waiting for the perfect moment to ruin your entire day.

You rolled over and reached for your phone on the nightstand.

You: Keonho baby come over pleaseee 😭 i feel weak and everything hurts.

A few seconds after you texted him, your phone buzzed.

Keonho: aww my poor baby 😞

Keonho: ill be there in then minutes okay?

You: mhm

You set your phone down and curled tighter beneath your blanket. Every position you did seemed so uncomfortable. Your stomach hurt, your lower back hurt, and you felt so exhausted.

Not even ten minutes later, you heard a knock at the door.

Before you could even get up, the door opened and Keonho stepped inside.

“Dont even think about moving,” he said.

You immediately relaxed at the sight of him.

“I feel like I'm dying.”

“You say that every month babe.”

Keonho laughed softly as he walked over towards you. That's when you noticed the bag he had in his hand.

“What’s that?”

“Supplies.”

“What kind of supplies?”

“The kind that would help stop my girlfriend from suffering any further.”

Your eyes immediately started watering.

“Baby, why are you crying already?”

“I’m not crying.”

“You literally are.”

You quickly wiped the tears beneath your eyes.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

His expression softened.

“Aww.”

“Don’t aww me.”

“Well too bad because I will.”

You couldn’t hold your smile back. Keonho sat beside you and placed the bag in your lap.

“Open it.”

You peeked inside the bag.

The first thing you found was a fuzzy pair of socks.

Then your favorite snacks.

Pain relievers.

A bottle of water.

And even your favorite kind of chocolate.

Your bottom lip instantly trembled.

“Keonho…”

“What?”

“You remembered the fuzzy socks.”

“Of course I remembered.”

He gently grabbed one of your feet.

“Your feet are basically ice cubes.”

“Okay, rude.”

“But it's true.”

“Maybe.”

“I win.”

You laughed quietly before setting everything he got you down and wrapping your arms around him.

“Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me.”

“I do.”

“No.”

“Keonho.”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes. He carefully pulled away, grabbing the heating pad from beside you.

“Come here.”

You scooted closer.

He plugged it in and gently placed it across your stomach. The warmth immediately eased some of the tension in your muscles.

You sighed.

“Better?”

“A little.”

“My mission is working.”

You rested your head against his shoulder. Keonho smiled before draping a fuzzy white blanket over both of you. 

For a while neither of you said a single word. His fingers slowly brushed through your hair while you relaxed against him.

“You know,” he said quietly, “you don't have to thank me every five seconds.”

“Why?” “Because taking care of you is kind of my job.”

“Since when?”

“Since I decided I liked you.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “That’s so cheesy.”

“Yeah.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. 

“But it worked.”

You couldn't even argue with it. 

After a while, the warmth of the heating pad and the comfort of his presence made your eyelids heavy.

“Try to sleep,” he murmured.

“Only if you stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Hearing those words was enough, you closed your eyes and drifted off with your head resting against his chest.

A few hours later, you woke up. The cramps were still there, but they weren’t as bad as earlier. Beside you, Keonho was asleep.

One arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close even in his sleep. 

You carefully tried to move. Instantly, his grip tightened.

His eyes cracked open.

“Baby?”

“I’m just going to get water.”

“Stay.”

“Keonho.”

“Five minutes.”

You laughed. 

“I’m thirsty.”

That finally got him moving. With a dramatic sigh, he sat up.

“Fine.”

A few moments later he returned with a huge glass of water.

“Here you go, my love.”

You happily accepted it and drank nearly the entire thing. When you finished, he took the empty glass from your hands.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He carried it to the kitchen and washed it before returning to the couch. The second he sat down, you immediately curled up beside him again.

Keonho chuckled.

“Comfortable?”

“Mhm.”

“You know you’re spoiled, right?”

“Your fault.”

“My fault?”

“Yeah, you keep taking care of me.”

He smiled and wrapped one arm around your shoulders.

“Guess I'll just have to keep doing it.”

You smiled and snuggled closer to him.

“Good.”

“Good?” Keonho repeated, amused.

“Yep.”

“So you’ve accepted your fate as a spoiled girlfriend?”

“I prefer well loved.” He laughed.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’m actually trying to sleep right now, actually.”

“Then close your eyes.”

You huffed dramatically but listened, settling deeper against his side. For a few minutes, everything was quiet. 

Then your stomach growled.

Again. 

Keonho instantly started laughing.

“Oh my gosh.”

“Don’t.”

“It sounded so angry.”

“It’s because I haven't eaten.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” You looked up at him.

“Because getting up sounded like the worst thing ever.”

Keonho shook his head.

“You’re so unbelievable.”

Before you could protest, he carefully untangled himself from your tight grip and stood up.

“Stay right here.”

“Where are you going now?”

“To make you some food.” “Keonho, you don’t have to.”

“I’m aware.”

A few minutes later, you can hear cabinets opening and closing from the kitchen. The smell of food eventually drifted into the living room. 

Your stomach immediately betrayed you with another very loud growl.

“Traitor,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” Keonho called from the kitchen.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” You rolled your eyes and pulled the blanket up to your chin. Not long after, he returned carrying a tray. 

Your eyes widened.

“Keonho.”

“What?”

“You made all of that?”

“Most of it was already in your kitchen.”

On the tray sat a small sandwich, crackers, fruit, and another large glass of water.

You stared at it, then at him, then back at the tray.

“You really didn’t have to do all this.”

His expression softened.

“I wanted to.”

The ache in your stomach suddenly felt a little bit less overwhelming. You took a bit of the sandwich while Keonho watched with a very satisfied smile.

“There.”

“Are you happy now?”

“Very.”

“You look like a proud dad.”

“I basically am.”

You nearly choked.

“Excuse me?”

“You have to be reminded to drink water, sleep, and eat.”

“Okay, rude.”

“But accurate.”

You couldn’t even argue back.

After finishing most of your food, you handed the tray back to him.

“Thank you.”

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“The thank you.”

You smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize either.”

“And yet you still love me.”

Unfortunately, he had a point.

After putting the tray away, Keonho returned to the couch and immediately opened his arms.

You didn’t hesitate.

The second you curled beside him, he wrapped both of his arms around you and pulled the blanket over the two of you.

It was warm. Comfortable. And safe.

You rested your head against his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers absentmindedly played with your hair.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked quietly.

“A little.”

“Only a little?”

“The cramps still hurt.”

His hand moved to your lower back, gently rubbing small circles there.

“How about now?”

You sighed happily.

“Better.”

“Told you.”

A comfortable silence settled between you. The movie continued playing in the background, neither of you really paying attention anymore.

At some point, Keonho looked down and noticed your eyes slowly closing.

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.”

“You keep fighting it.”

“I wanna stay awake with you.”

His smile instantly softened.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

You felt him press a gentle kiss against your forehead.

Then another.

And another.

You laughed tiredly.

“How many kisses was that?”

“I don’t know.” “That’s concerning.”

“I’ll stop when you stop being cute.” “So never?”

“Exactly.” You groaned dramatically, making him laugh.

A few moments later, your eyes began drifting shut again.

This time you didn’t fight it.

The warmth of the blanket, the heating pad against your stomach, and Keonho’s arms wrapped securely around you made it almost impossible to stay awake.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard him whisper:

🍋‍🟩:: pairing: james x fem!reader

🐰:: warnings: cussing, james missing his gf, etc

💭 belle: guys im so freaking tired & lazy. (WHO TF SAID FHAT??) anywaysss but i’ll have a fic out maybe in a few more days 🫩👀…

sun drunk

pairings: james x lifeguard!reader genre: fluff, sleepy cuddles, comfort warnings: touch starved themes, mild sunburn wc: ~2k synopsis: after a draining shift as a lifeguard leaves you so exhausted and sun warmed, james becomes unsually clingy, completely obssessed with your heated skin and the comfort holding you close.

the apartment door clicked shut behind you with every last bit of energy you had left. your bag slid off your shoulders instantly after, landing somewhere near the entrance with a pathetic flop that perfectly matched your mood.

the boy my family loved first 안 건호 — 𐙚⋆.˚

— ᨳଓ . pairings: keonho x fem!reader — ᨳଓ . genre: beach day chaos, fluff, family bonding, soft romance, friends into lovers — ᨳଓ . warnings: kissing wc: ~2k (?) idk i forgot 🫩 — ᨳଓ . synopsis: a beach trip with your chaotic family turns into something so unforgettable when your best friend, keonho, quickly wins everyone over, while you realize you're slowly falling for him too.

shopping spree

pairings: seonghyeon x f!reader genre: fluff, idol AU/content creator AU, slice of life content warnings: none wc: 1,930 words synopsis: a "quick shopping trip" in seoul turns into teasing, chaos, and a camera that's storage is already full??

I missed you — # 코르티스 ᝰ.ᐟ 보고 싶었어 ~ ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐

➵ pairings:: cortis ot5 x gn!reader ➵ genre:: fluff, slice of life, comfort. ➵ warnings:: exhaustion, clinginess, emotional affection, lots of cuddling. wc:: ~1,560 words ➵ summary:: After weeks of being away on tour, the members of Cortis finally come home. They miss the adrenaline, the fans, the stage... but none of it compares to how badly they missed your affection.

Close Mic—

Pairings:: Keonho x F!6th member illit reader Genre:: slow burn, fluff, backstage romance, idol AU Warnings:: online attention, awkward flirting, idol stress WC:: ~1,150-1,250 Synopsis:: A collab between 6th member reader from illit and Keonho from cortis turns into a viral moment when their ending fairy eye contact steals the entire stage.

The practice room had smelled faintly like cool air conditioning, convenience store ramen that someone had abandoned two hours ago, and hairspray.

It was almost around midnight.

You sat on the cold practice floor tying your shoelaces tighter while music echoed from the speakers for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

Across the room, Keonho wiped sweat from his forehead and the back of his neck with a towel before bringing his gaze towards you.

"You keep rushing the turn during the second chorus."

You looked up immediately. "I don't."

"You literally just did, I was watching your timing."

"That sounds like you're blaming me."

"That's because I am."

Keonho stared at you for a second before laughing quietly under his breath. Not loud. Never loud.

Just to make you feel strangely victorious. The choreographer had clapped his hands from in front of the mirror. "Again from the partner section!"

Groans filled the room.

You pushed yourself up with a very dramatic sigh while Keonho reached over to carefully steady your wrists before you lost balance.

The touch lasted much more longer than it should have. Still, both of you noticed, but didn't say anything.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

The collaboration announcement blew up online two days later. Fans were already dissecting the blurry rehearsal photos and videos like detectives solving a national crisis.

"I'm sat."

"WHY DO THEY LOOK SO GOOD STANDING NEXT TO EACH OTHER GUYS???"

"The height difference HELLO??"

You instantly regretted opening social media. Inside the Illit dorm, the members crowded around your phone like tigers spotting their prey.

"Oh my gosh," Wonhee gasped dramatically. "People are already shipping you two."

You dropped face first onto the couch. "I hate all of you."

"Seems like you don't hate him though," Yunah sang.

"C'mon, I barely even know him."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I'm actually not."

"You actually are."

You threw a pillow at Yunah's face.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

Meanwhile, somewhere in Seoul, Cortis was being much more unbearable.

Keonho sat quietly scrolling through comments while his members leaned over his shoulders.

"Bro," James wheezed. "This leaked post has 400k likes already and rehearsals haven't even happened publicly yet."

Martin pointed dramatically at the screen. "Wait, pause there."

Keonho frowned. "Why?"

"You looked at her like she was the most cutest thing on this Earth."

The room erupted.

Keonho shoved him away immediately. "You guys are so annoying."

"You're not even denying it though," Seonghyeon whispered.

A water bottle went flying across the room.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

The very first public rehearsal happened at an award show pre recording.

That was somehow much more worse. There were cameras everywhere, staff running around with clipboards, idols greeting each other backstage.

You adjusted the sleeves of your oversized jacket nervously while staring at the stage monitors.

"You nervous?"

Keonho had appeared beside you so quietly you almost jumped off the stage.

"A little."

"You know the choreography perfectly."

"That's not the scary part you know."

"The cameras?"

"The cameras."

Keonho nodded once like he understood completely. Then he held out a cold water bottle.

You blinked. "Is this for me?"

"You look dehydrated."

Your fingers brushed his slightly, neither of you moved away fast enough though.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

Practice after that became much more easier.

You started recognizing his footsteps outside of the rehearsal rooms.

Keonho started saving the spot beside him without thinking twice about it.

You guys shared earbuds while reviewing your stage recording, and argued over choreography details, mocked each other's terrible midnight snack choices.

And somewhere in the middle of the exhausting rehearsals and the fluorescent lights in the practice room, being around each other stopped feeling nerve wracking. It started feeling comfortable.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

The night of the performance arrived much more faster than expected.

The entire venue buzzed with noise, stylists rushed around backstage fixing outfits and microphones while the staff had counted down the remaining minutes.

You stood near the side stage entrance trying to steady your breathing. Your in ear monitor cracked softly. Then Keonho bumped his shoulder against yours.

"You okay?"

You quickly nodded. "Yeah."

He chucked softly. "You look terrified."

"That's because I am."

"You hide it well."

"We'll do fine." Keonho said softly.

Not you'll do fine.

We.

Something about that settled your nerves almost immediately.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

The stage lights exploded across the arena.

Music thundered through the speakers, the crowd screamed loud enough to shake the floor beneath.

You barely remembered the opening formation afterward.

Everything blurred together into one: sharp choreography, silver lights, camera cranes moving overhead, Keonho's hand catching yours perfectly during partner work.

The audience's reaction got louder halfway through the performance, especially during the center duet section.

Your chemistry had become too natural to have to fake anymore. Every glance lingered for half a second longer, every movement looked effortless together.

And fans noticed, of course they noticed.

Then came the ending pose.

Confetti drifted down slowly as the music slowly faded. You and Keonho held your positions, breathing slightly uneven, still caught in the intensity of the stage.

A second passed.

Then Keonho turned his head towards you, not fully, just enough to look at you.

His expression softened in a way that didn't match the stage anymore. Like the performance ended for everyone else... except for you two.

You looked back at him without thinking.

And for a brief, unguarded moment, you guys just... stayed like that.

No camera awareness, no choreography, just eye contact that felt too quiet to belong in a roaring arena.

The crowd had noticed immediately, screams spiked.

Fans online would later on call this the moment the whole stage "shifted."

And neither of you broke it first.